At Bluebonnet Lake (Texas Crossroads Book #1): A Novel (16 page)

Kate shook her head. Carousels might be beautiful, but they were tame, practically boring. “I thought this was supposed to be a challenge. If so, we need something a bit more exciting. What about the Ferris wheel?”

It had to be her imagination that Greg stiffened. “The line is long,” he said as he let his arm drop to his side. “Pick another.”

Kate looked around. The only short queues were for the kiddy rides. “The lines are long everywhere. C’mon, Greg. It’s been years since I was on a Ferris wheel. It’ll be fun.”

“For whom?” Though he wrinkled his nose as if he were joking, Kate had the feeling his question was sincere.

“For both of us.” It might lack the thrills of a roller coaster, but a Ferris wheel provided beautiful views. Kate always felt as if she were on top of the world when she rode one. “Let’s go.” She grabbed Greg’s hand and tugged, urging him into the queue.

“This is a bad idea.” He spoke so softly that Kate wondered if she’d heard correctly.

He must be joking. Just to be sure, Kate said, “I didn’t quite catch that.”

Greg shook his head. “Nothing.”

Though the line had appeared long, it moved quickly, and within five minutes they were seated on the wheel. Seconds later, they were suspended a few feet off the ground as the operator filled the next chair.

Kate looked at Greg, and this time there was no denying it. Something was definitely wrong. His face was almost green, and he was gripping the safety bar so tightly that his knuckles were
white. Kate gave herself a mental kick for having insisted. Why hadn’t she realized that Greg wasn’t kidding when he’d tried to discourage her? She didn’t have to search far to find the reason. She’d been thinking of herself, remembering Greg’s joke about taking risks. She hadn’t considered anyone else.

“You really didn’t want to do this, did you?” Short of jumping out, which would be foolhardy, they had no recourse.

“It’s too late now.” Greg’s words came out in short bursts. “We’re past the point of no return.” As he pronounced the final word, Kate saw a flicker of something in his eyes—panic, enthusiasm, something else? She wasn’t sure. All she knew was that something had changed.

A second later, Greg began to sing the famous song from
Phantom of the Opera.
She stared in astonishment, not quite believing what was happening. No one she knew had ever done anything like this. Greg could hardly carry a tune, and other than the title, the words he was singing bore no resemblance to Andrew Lloyd Webber’s, but it didn’t seem to matter.

“Past the point of no return, this Ferris wheel is climbing.” As the car moved in fits and stops, Greg continued, improvising lyrics. He was singing as if his life depended on it.

Kate’s heart began to pound. Though Greg might not admit it, this was his version of whistling in the dark, an attempt to overcome fear. It didn’t even matter what the fear was. What mattered was that it was Kate’s fault they were here. She should have known better. She should have listened more carefully. Kate wrapped her arm around Greg’s waist and drew him closer to her.

“Are you trying out for
American Idol
?” she demanded, hoping to distract him enough that he’d forget whatever had made him turn green around the gills. Theirs had been one of the last cars to be filled. Now the Ferris wheel was full and had begun to revolve. “I can do better.” She couldn’t, but that was part of
the plan. Before Greg could say anything, Kate started a terribly off-key rendition of “Don’t Cry for Me, Argentina.”

When she finished, Greg was laughing, and the color had returned to his face. As if he were suddenly aware of Kate’s arm around his waist, he stretched out his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders, then slid it down to her waist. His movement released the tantalizing scent of his cologne, and the warmth of Greg’s hand on her waist made Kate want to rest her head on his shoulder. Instead, she simply smiled and hoped her smile didn’t look silly. She was the one who was supposed to be providing comfort.

“You were awful,” Greg said, his smile taking any possible sting from the words. Though the Ferris wheel continued to revolve, he seemed not to care. Perhaps it was only those first few minutes when they dangled in the air as the other chairs were being filled that bothered him. Whatever the reason, Kate was glad that Greg appeared to have recovered.

“No worse than you.” She didn’t know how long the ride would last, but she did know that she couldn’t let Greg’s fears return. “We need to try a duet. What shall we do?” She thought quickly. “My grandmother sings ‘Some Enchanted Evening’ in the shower. Do you know that?”

Greg shrugged, the motion releasing more of his cologne. Though she had been trying to distract him, even without trying, Greg was managing to distract her.

“I know the melody but not all the words,” he said.

“It doesn’t matter. Whenever you don’t know the words, just sing la-la-la. That’ll work.” Before he could protest, Kate started singing.

“Some enchanted . . .”

“La-la.” Kate smiled as Greg joined in. The only prize they’d win would be for worst harmony, but she didn’t mind. Greg looked almost carefree. That was what was important.

And then the Ferris wheel stopped, leaving them at the top of the arc. When Greg stopped singing, so did Kate. This was her favorite part of a Ferris wheel ride, the panorama from the top.

She caught her breath, amazed at the sheer grandeur of the Hill Country. The view was breathtakingly beautiful. As far as she could see, there were rolling hills dotted with clusters of trees. The varying shades of green against the deep blue sky begged to be photographed or captured on canvas, but what made the scene truly spectacular was the field of bluebonnets. A lighter blue than the sky and interspersed with patches of yellow and orange flowers, they looked as soft as velvet.

“Oh, Greg! It’s incredible.”

He made no response. Instead, he cupped Kate’s chin, turning it so she could see that he wasn’t looking at the landscape. For a second, he said nothing. His gaze met hers, his eyes a darker green than she’d ever seen, filled with an expression Kate could not identify. Slowly, his gaze moved lower, resting on her lips.

“So are you,” Greg said as he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.

I
t wasn’t the first time she’d been kissed. It wasn’t even the first time she’d been kissed on a Ferris wheel. That “honor,” if you could use the word, had gone to Jimmy Feneck the summer they turned thirteen. Neither one of them had wanted to repeat the experience. This was different. Totally different.

Greg’s lips were tender; their touch sent shivers of delight down her spine, and his hand cupping her head made Kate feel cherished. The tangy scent of his cologne mingled with the sweet smell of caramel corn and the more pungent odors that the breeze wafted up from the fairgrounds. Carousel music blended with screams from the roller coaster and the shouts of delight when someone won a prize at one of the games. It was an ordinary day at the fair, and yet it wasn’t. Today was the day Greg Vange kissed her. A wonderful, wonderful day. A wonderful, wonderful kiss. If Kate had her way, the kiss would never end.

It did.

As the Ferris wheel jerked into motion again, Greg pulled back, breaking the contact. Though the day was warm, the air seemed cool against Kate’s lips, compared to the heat of Greg’s kiss, leaving her feeling somehow bereft. How silly! It was only a kiss. But it wasn’t only a kiss. It was the most wonderful kiss
Kate had ever had. And, judging from the way Greg’s lips curved in a smile, she wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

“I don’t think I’ll ever hear ‘Some Enchanted Evening’ without remembering today.” His hand dropped from her neck to circle her shoulders, drawing her closer to him. “You’re an incredible woman, Kate Sherwood. You’re the only person I know who could keep me from realizing I was sixty feet above the ground.”

Though Greg’s voice was low, Kate heard the note of amazement in it. “That sounds as if you’re afraid of heights.” She’d thought that might be the case, given his reaction, but it could have been something different, perhaps being in a confined space. No wonder he’d suggested they ride the merry-go-round.

Greg nodded. “I am afraid of heights . . . or at least I was.” He kept his eyes focused on her, and the intensity in them made her wonder if he was considering looking down. Most acrophobics would not do that, but if there was one thing Kate knew about Greg, it was that he was not like most people. While few men would admit to any fear, he was open about his. And he’d gone along with her, even though he was uncomfortable. Kate knew no one else who would have done that for her.

“I’m sorry, Greg. I feel awful, knowing I forced you to ride the Ferris wheel.”

“Are you really sorry?” He laid his finger on her lips and gave her a crooked smile. “I’m not.”

As his finger caressed her lips, Kate shook her head. The ride with its silly singing and that incredible kiss had been more wonderful than anything she could have imagined. How could she regret the single most memorable event of her life?

“Me, neither.”

The alarm rang, jolting Kate awake. Strange. She normally woke after six hours, but this time she’d slept for a full eight.
She couldn’t even blame oversleeping—for that’s what it felt like—on a late night. They’d returned from the festival several hours earlier than she’d expected, thanks to Roy’s vigilance. He must have realized that Sally was more tired than she wanted to admit, because he claimed that his bunions hurt and insisted they leave after they’d all indulged in the chili cook-off.

Thanks to the early start, they’d arrived back at Rainbow’s End without seeing any deer, and Kate had fallen asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. Another first. Normally she was restless, tossing and turning for at least half an hour before sleep claimed her. Yesterday had definitely been different. Different in many good ways.

Kate splashed water on her face, dressed hurriedly, then rushed to the lodge, wondering if she’d be too late to watch Greg rowing. While she waited for her messages to download, she stared out the window, searching the lake for a man in a boat. Though the wind was creating small ripples on the surface, there was no sign of Greg. She was too late.

With a small sigh, Kate returned to her laptop and frowned when she saw three messages from Heather, one dated more than twenty-four hours ago. Though she’d been checking messages each morning, she hadn’t thought about it yesterday, and she’d become so accustomed to not having cell coverage that she hadn’t turned on her phone while they’d been gone.

It was amazing what a difference a week could make. At home her phone was practically an extension of her hand, but Kate wasn’t at home. She was on vacation. For a second, she considered deleting the messages unread, but she couldn’t, not when she’d promised Heather she would check them daily. As wonderful as this vacation was turning out to be, it was only a vacation, a temporary interlude. Work was permanent, and that made it important.

Kate clicked on the first message.
“Call me immediately. I
need to talk to you
about a new client.”
The second and third had the same content but more urgency, with the final one, delivered two hours earlier, all in capital letters.

Kate tried not to frown. While the prospect of a new client meant extra work for whoever was assigned as the client executive, it happened often enough that no one at the firm panicked. There must be something special about this new client, because Heather was using the email equivalent of shouting, and that was unusual.

Kate glanced at her watch and frowned again. Though she could use the office phone, Angela would be arriving in five minutes. Knowing Heather, five minutes would not be long enough, and Kate didn’t want her conversation overheard. She made it back to the cabin in record time and, when she heard her grandmother stirring, knocked on her door.

“I have to go to town for a few minutes,” she said when Sally invited her in. Though she suspected Sally knew why Kate went to the lodge each morning, she did not want to engage in a discussion about working while on vacation. Perhaps Sally would think Kate was helping Brandi and Olivia again. “I should be back before breakfast is over.”

Her grandmother was still lying in bed, her hair sticking straight up in back. “You don’t need to rush. As long as you’re going into town, could you bring me a carrot muffin from the Sit ‘n’ Sip? Roy said they’re almost as good as Carmen’s. If you get that and some of Carmen’s coffee, I can have breakfast in bed.”

Alarm speared Kate’s heart, and she stared at Sally. Other than a few creases on her cheeks, the result of sleeping on a wrinkled pillowcase, she looked perfectly normal. But her request was not normal. “Are you ill?” Kate had never known her grandmother to linger in bed, and though she had given Sally a breakfast-in-bed tray many years before, planning to surprise
her with a special meal and pampering one Mother’s Day, Sally had declared that only invalids ate in bed.

“Not at all.” Kate’s grandmother shook her head as she pushed herself to a sitting position. “I’m feeling lazy. At my age, breakfast in bed sounds good.”

As relief flooded through her, Kate smiled. “It sounds good at my age too. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“No rush.” Sally switched on the bedside lamp and reached for her e-reader. “I’ve plenty to keep me busy.”

So did Kate, although she suspected that her grandmother would enjoy the next hour more than she. She fished her car keys out of her bag and slid behind the steering wheel, feeling almost as if she were going to work.

Turning left out of the resort, Kate headed up the hill that separated Rainbow’s End from the town, and as she did, she saw a jogger. Greg. The man who kissed better than any man she’d dated. Kate pushed that thought firmly out of her mind.

“Need a ride?” she asked, rolling down the window as she reached Greg’s side. Like his tennis whites, his jogging attire appeared relatively new, and his shoes bore the logo of a top brand. The expense reminded Kate that while Greg might be currently unemployed, he had once held a well-paying job.

He stopped but jogged in place, panting as he said, “And give up the possibility of shin splints and torn tendons? Not on your life.” Greg’s eyes narrowed slightly, and Kate wondered if her hair was standing up the way Sally’s had. “Why are you out so early?” he asked.

“Sally wants breakfast in bed.” If that was only half the story, it was all that he needed to know. Kate had already heard Greg’s thoughts on her working while she was supposed to be on vacation, and she didn’t want an encore. The memory of yesterday was still too fresh for her to do anything to spoil it.

“You could have arranged that with Carmen,” he pointed out, his tone telling Kate her subterfuge had failed.

“You’re right,” she admitted. “I need to make a phone call, and I didn’t want to use the Sinclairs’ line.”

“Work.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Two days ago, she might not have thought it unfortunate, but today she wanted to live “in the moment” as she’d heard someone describe it. Today she wanted to savor the memories of the time she and Greg had spent together, and—if she was fortunate—create some new memories.

Though he raised an eyebrow, Greg said only, “For future reference, you can get a cell signal at the top of the hill. You don’t have to go all the way to Dupree.”

“Thanks.” Kate put the car back in gear and headed for the summit. When she reached it, she pulled to the side and called Heather.

“Where were you?” Heather demanded when she picked up the phone. To Kate’s relief, she sounded harried rather than annoyed.

“At a bluebonnet festival.”

Kate heard a brief intake of breath, followed by what sounded almost like a chuckle. Perhaps this wouldn’t be as difficult a conversation as she’d expected. “I won’t even ask what a person does at a bluebonnet festival,” Heather said. “I’m not sure I want to know.” Kate heard keys clicking and realized her boss was composing a message while she spoke to her. Heather prided herself on being able to multitask. “I know you’re supposed to be on vacation, but something’s come up.”

“The new client.”

“Precisely.” The clicking stopped. “Aunt Ivy’s Peanuts.”

Kate thought for a second, trying and failing to place the name. “I’ve never heard of them.” She switched off the ignition and leaned back in her seat. As she’d guessed when she’d seen Heather’s messages, this was going to be a lengthy conversation.

“That’s the problem. The company’s been around for fifty years. The original owner, the real Aunt Ivy, died six months ago and left the company to two of her children.”

Kate stared into the distance, wondering what role Heather expected her to play.

“The company makes a decent profit. In fact, they’re doing pretty well,” Heather continued, “but Ike and Hazel Preston—they’re the new owners—want to change the image. They want to appeal to young, affluent buyers.”

Kate smiled at Greg and waved as he reached the top of the hill, then turned around for the easier part of his workout. “When I think about young and affluent, peanuts aren’t usually part of the same sentence,” she told Heather.

“Precisely.” That was one of Heather’s favorite words. “That’s why Hazel and Ike want to update their image. Their primary product is peanut butter, but they’re considering expanding the line. They’re looking for guidance as well as advertising.”

“It sounds interesting.” A change of management often led to new advertising campaigns and occasionally resulted in the company’s choosing a new agency. That was one of the reasons Kate read as many business publications as she did. She wanted to be among the first to know when change was occurring at a company, because that was one way of identifying potential new clients. From what Heather had said, Aunt Ivy’s had more potential than many.

“It is interesting, especially when you hear their budget.”

Kate whistled softly after Heather told her the number. “We can do a lot with that.” She pictured TV spots as well as print ads.

“
You
can,” Heather corrected her. “They heard about Sid’s Seafood and want you to handle their account.”

This wasn’t just good news. It was excellent news. Kate beamed at the realization that she had something to look forward to
when she returned to the office. “Wonderful. I’ll start on it when I get back.”

Kate blinked. For some reason Greg had come back to the top of the hill. She almost chuckled when he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. So he wasn’t out only for the exercise. Interesting.

“That’s not good enough.” Heather’s voice brought Kate back to her own phone call. “They want the proposal within two weeks.”

And that was not good. Not good at all. “I’m in Texas, Heather. On vacation.”

“You think I don’t know that?” her boss asked, her voice totally devoid of humor. “If you were here, we’d already be running with this. As it is, Nick wants me to let Chase work on it.”

“Chase is good.” And he wanted to be the next partner, a fact he’d made perfectly clear to both Kate and Nick. “The problem is, he doesn’t have any experience with food companies.”

“Precisely. That’s why I need you. That and the fact that Hazel and Ike Preston made it clear you were to be in charge of their account. It wasn’t exactly an ultimatum, but pretty close. They want you, Kate.”